Turning 18 in Honduras.

Last weekend I turned 18, it was fantastic. Where a majority of the volunteers met up at Lago de Yojoa, at a lodge near the lake that specialised in blueberry pancakes, burgers and beer. We decided to start celebrating my birthday uk time, so at 5pm Honduran time, in a rowing most in the middle of the most beautiful lake, a bunch of British teenagers blasted out happy birthday. Much to the amusement of the local fishermen. Heading back to the lodge, extremely wet and a bit bashed up (after jumping out of the boat and finding some cliffs to jump off) I had my first legal drink, some of the home brewed beer at the lodge. It was somewhat disappointing but the pancakes and bacon made up for that the next morning. Finally i found bacon! Sitting round the campfire talking to other teachers (all American) who were teaching in other areas of Honduras, provided us with amusing anecdotes and it was great being able to compare our observations of the children and find that most of them were very, very similar. For example, if you ever set a piece of homework, the day that homework's due, as soon as you get into the class, you're pounced upon by the kids. 'Miss, Miss, Miss!!! HOMEWORK!!!' and with books thrown at you left right and centre. Over all, having a 31 hour birthday was a great laugh, and what a place to turn 18!! And to top it off, two of the volunteers made the most fantastic chocolate cake, with Oreos and chocolate icing. ¡Que rico!

Honduras loves it's public holidays. This is our 2nd long weekend this month, and that's great because it gives us time to head further afield and experience different areas in Honduras. There was some confusion as to when the public holiday was, it was originally friday, then Monday, and the changed to Tuesday because the national football team are playing against Canada. Finally they decided it was Monday. So off we headed, to the Caribbean coast, very close to the border with Guatemala. The place was called Omoa, and the weather was fantastic, as it always is. We went in search of a quiet beach, and hiked along the road and then down to what seemed like a secluded, peaceful area.. We were confronted by the messiest beach I've ever seen. You couldn't see any sand for the rubbish. Looking along in the distance I figured it might get better, so we walked for about half an hour, finally settling on a spot that was 'cleaner' than most other places. It was beautiful if you kept your eyes out to sea. And we stayed there for hours, chilling and eating fruit, and contemplating how wonderful life was. But it's extremely sad that what could potentially be absolutely wonderful beaches are polluted with so much rubbish. The area around Omoa could be a fantastic tourist destination, but the rubbish limits it's opportunities. And what's more, a majority of it is not even Honduran rubbish. It's from the states, neighbouring countries and possible even Europe.

Later on, back at the hostel we met a group of folks who were motorbiking from Alaska to Argentina. What a trip!! The group was made up if a dutch couple, who were travelling together and writing about the agriculture as they passed it. And two guys from London, who were continuing a round the world journey for charity, having started in the uk, crossed through Europe, Russia, Siberia, Mongolia and onwards, South Korea and then Alaska to Argentina. They all had some amazing stories about the ups and downs, the people they'd met and just generally how fantastic it was. They made a big impression on me, and I found out that whatever I end up doing in life, I want to continue travelling to all areas of the world. And have fun. Life's about living in the present and taking opportunities as they come. These guys seemed to have that down to a tee. If you want to check out their blog, it's toughmiles.com. Well worth a look, particularly if you like motorbikes and travel!

I have also managed to get the best frown tan line on my forehead. Fantastic! All the kids have been laughing at me all week...

The security guard smiles and waves to us as e swings his shotgun over his shoulder.

Having lived in Trinidad for 9 weeks, I think it's about time I told you more about the area I'm living in. Trinidad is a town of around people, its situated in the department of Santa Barbara , about an hour from San Pedro Sula, in Western Honduras. San Pedro is Honduras' second city, extremely dangerous, but if you want to travel anywhere to San Pedro you must go. With Trinidad you can walk from one side to the other in about ten minutes. It's a pretty area, with some wealthier houses, but just two minutes from the parque central (the main square where the church and majority of shops are located, which is a feature of all the towns here) and you can see the houses of the less wealthy residents. And the difference is striking. From beautifully painted houses with immaculate to mud huts with corrugated iron roofs and heaps of rubbish. Walking further out often you come tithe barrios (kind of like suburbs, but as you get further from the town the poorer they get) thses stretch far up onto the hill, and up to 4 kilometres outside of the village. These are the poorest areas, and Mali and I have the opportunity to work in a poverty stricken kinder school in a barrio called Lempira. It's a huge change to the school we currently work in. It's one room, decorated with second hand posters. The children are very young 3/4 years old. And extremely cute. They are excitable and fun to teach. I'll elaborate on this teaching opportunity later in the blog.

Trinidad is a very safe place compared to other areas of Honduras. We can walk around and not feel threatened. Although going out too late after dark is inadvisable, and can be dangerous. Even though we've been reassured of the safeness of our town, the locals still like to carry guns, everywhere. The guards at the bank have shotguns casually resting on their shoulders and pistols in their belts, our landlord walks about with a gun holstered in his belt, walking down the street you'll see two or three people (always men) carrying guns. And you cant help but notice the bulletholes in some of the vehicles. At first it made me very wary and slightly disconcerted, but now, it's just what happens. This is how the people live. There's always a risk of violence. Armed robberies are popular along some of the isolated roads of this department. And with the main occupation being farming, travelling on the isolated roads is daily routine, the farmers feel the have to protect themselves. While this is entirely justifiable, I can't help but think that the amount of people carrying guns can only compound the violence here.

While we haven't witnessed any violence, we did have a moment where at 7am we thought there was a dead body in the street. The street was relatively busy, but everyone kept walking on, as did we. It worried us, until the next day, we saw the same man, lying in different spot at 7am. Turns out he's the local drunk who likes to pass out in the early hours and wake up around lunchtime. This reassured us, while Honduras is the murder capital of the world, Trinidad is not a town where murders happen in broad daylight and the people just walk on by.

Unfortunately due to some issues in relation to public school, we are temporarily unable to teach there. This should hopefully be resolved soon, as I really do wish to continue working there! Before the issues arose, I won't get into the details as it should be easily resolved, we decided we would also work in a Kinder school in a very poor barrio about a kilometre from our house. The first day we started, we walked down, it was a very beautiful walk and it shows you areas of Trinidad that you wouldn't normally see, highlighting the extreme poverty faced by some families in this area. Approaching the school, we soon realised that this would be very different from where we teach in the afternoons. The school was a room, decorated very basically and with 4 desks surrounded by 18 tiny chairs. Te children were all standing up, with one hand on their heart, singing the national anthem as we entered. A daily occurrence here. The children were unbelievably small and extremely cute. You could see the poverty much more clearly here, their shirts were not gleeming white, skirts were faded navy and trousers were ripped at the knees. It was a hard first day. We started by teaching them basic letters and words and matching those words to pictures. At first there was a lack of understanding, but come our next visit, the lesson ran much more smoothly. And the kids were excited for our return.
Address:
On Tuesday, we walked down to the barrio Lempira in the intense heat, to be confronted with only two pupils in the class. The elementary school teachers next door had gone to San Pedro for the day, so that school was closed. Everyone assumed that the kinder school would be closed. But alas it was not and only two pupils turned up. I have to admit, teaching the two cutest girls, one on one, was one of the best lessons I've done. They understood what we were teaching and were delighted when we spent half an hour after class playing with them. It was obvious that they weren't used to the constant attention we were able to give them. It was a good day. Although I am looking forward to having the full class back tomorrow.

There's toilet water flooding the house!!

Awakening to a light turning on is not the nicest way to be woken up. To be then asked,'Who knocked the water bottle over?' at 2am. Was even better. Once my brain had finally registered what was going on, I soon discovered the puddle of water was much larger than a bottle spillage. The whole house was flooded in about 2 inches of water. Unless this was one large water bottle, I concluded that something else was causing all this water on our floor.
Before finding the source of the leak, I realised that standing in a puddle of water while electrical items were plugged in and functional could potentially be extremely dangerous. Swiftly turning off the electrics, I went to the bathroom, the usual source of our plumbing problems. To my dismay, I discovered it was the toilet overflowing. Great, not only was our floor flooded, it was flooded with toilet water. Mali turned the water off, while I scooped the excess water out the toilet. Fantastic. Thankfully there was no poo in sight, as that part of our plumbing is less temperamental now. But still it's toilet water. The best method of clearing the floor was to brush the water out the door, which we did. Our house is all stone tiles so we didn't have to worry about drying carpets. Although all our bags, shoes, paper, basically everything that was on the floor was completely soaked. Lying in bed now, it's 3.30am, the floor is gradually drying, our belongings are on the washing line (hopefully it won't rain), the windows are open to the maximum and the electrics are not getting plugged in until everything is bone dry. We're in for a hot night. L

Having lived in Trinidad for 8 weeks now (it doesn't seem like that at all!) the excitement is starting to wear off, and reality is kicking in. The work is hard, draining and not without it's challenges. Working with kids everyday is so tiring. You are a roll model to them all, you have to be constantly aware of your mannerisms and behaviour. And be the best teacher you can be. Constantly on alert to see which child is misbehaving or not understanding. But when you get that one child, who has struggled for what seems a lifetime, shows that they understand and can competently do something. You feel a sense of achievement. And it's great. No doubt this year is gonna be hard, and not without it's ups and downs. There's already been quite a few. But it'll hopefully be one I remember for the rest of my life as a very fulfilling, rewarding and enjoyable.

And onto oranges! We have been showered in oranges. After getting paid on Friday, we decided to do a big shop, we haven't been able to find oranges for about a week. And I was desperately craving them. So we purchased a healthy amount. Ten minutes after we returned home, some students knocked on our door. I had mentioned, a few weeks back, how much I love oranges and obviously remembering this, brought us copious amounts of oranges. We now have a fridge full of oranges and a very happy Caitlin. With 34 oranges to consume as Mali's not a fan...

We have made friends with a local family, their father is American whi has lived here for 12 years, and cycled around Scotland about 30 years ago. It's a nice point of contact for us to have. They invite us up on a regular basis, to play with the kids, make cake and play cluedo (which can get extremely competitive) and tonight we played football. It was great fun! We played three games, Mali and I were almost dead after that. It was so enjoyable that we've decided to start playing on a regular basis and maybe start a woman's team here. Definitely up for playing more football, as sadly rugby isn't exactly an option (Mali being from Wales is a true rugby fan and of course I am too). Most people just look at us like we're crazy when we try to explain. Although that might have something to do with our Spanish...

Felt the first proper pangs of homesickness this week. Nothing serious really. I was listening to my iPod while witting outside, and Caledonia came on. For those of you who haven't heard it, it's a song about someone who's been away from Scotland for a long time and is finally returning home. 'Calendonia's calling me and now I'm going home.' its a song that instantly reminds me of home, and the landscape and how beautiful my home is. It's a good song that invokes emotion, and now I totally understand why my aunt (currently living in France and has been abroad for 30 years) can't listen to the song without shedding a wee tear. But don't worry I won't be coming home soon, I still have 10 months before I make the journey home. Caledonia's not calling me yet. But I might give that song a miss from now on.

Photos to follow. Having slight technology trouble...